


Mini Fics

by sixxxteentons



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Ficlets, PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixxxteentons/pseuds/sixxxteentons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now there are two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Break up blues

It was better this way.   
There’d been shouting, and there’d been insults, and there’d been much slamming of doors. Rick sat down heavily on his bed and let the weight in his head drag him backwards until he slumped awkwardly against the wall and the blankets.   
A strand of hair gleamed on his pillow where it caught the light, and he plucked it up between thumb and forefinger, rolled it back and forth, then dropped it into the gap against the wall and watched it float down and out of sight. It was just a matter of time before all the signs would go the same way. The little lace panties would get thrown in the wash, be blamed on anyone in the house rather than on him, then thrown out and forgotten.   
The scent of cunt and perfume would get lost in his sheets, overpowered by his own odours even before the washing powder got there.   
The spare toothbrush would end up in the trash.   
There was no emotion on his face - in fact, he thought, he couldn’t even really feel the muscles. If something made him smile or pissed him off right now, he wouldn’t even be able to react. It was hard even to remember what it’d feel like.   
And something inside him, acidic, prickly and hot, triumphed. It’d been so easy, to shut himself down, force the shots back and let the cruelties out. And that pretty, pretty face had only looked shocked for a moment. Such a short moment.   
Then tiredness set in, something much more calm and unsurprised than disappointment - oh yeah, resignation, that’d be it.   
It all panned out exactly as he’d planned, so easy, such a short struggle. If he’d held back before he heard that stoic, infuriating little sigh, that noise, that little unspoken “oh, _Rick_ …” gave him all the encouragement he needed to really let it rip. There’d been no tears either, because of course everyone who decided to tangle with him knew what they were up against and knew that it’d fall apart sooner rather than later. The glitter in those eyes had just been a trick of the light.   
No, this was a victory. He was alone again, and he’d decided when and how.  
This time Rick came out on top, and now he was alone, no different than he’d been before this whole mess started.   
He’d delete the texts as soon as he could be bothered, not right now as if they mattered, but later. Perhaps he’d keep them, as a useful lesson to himself. He was alone, and he felt nothing. He’d won.


	2. Quickie

Rick is holding you down. Not roughly, exactly, because he knows there's no need. His eyes are dull, he's affected - drink, drugs, depression, who knows, who cares. He's not the champion of selfishness, why else would you be here?  
His hand is calloused, it's easy to tell against the soft, sensitive skin on your breast, then your neck.   
The wet smack when his thin hips meet your thighs again and again sounds obscene in the silence of his garage. It might have made you self conscious if you'd been with anyone else but with him of course you're dripping wet; any reservations you might have had about wanting him were overshadowed by his massive ego.   
In his mind nothing made more sense than you spreading your legs for him even wider and quietly pleading for him to fuck you harder. When you'd finally mustered up the courage to approach him, all he'd done was laugh.

The harsh light from the fluorescent lights above doesn't help, his wrinkles seems deeper and his skin more deathly pale and even if you close your eyes his balls still hang low enough to bounce off your bare ass every time he thrusts back inside you and sends the workbench thumping into the wall.   
Fuck. How in the world has it come to this?  
But as soon as Rick screws his eyes shut tight and curses with pleasure you stop questioning it, and when you slip a trembling hand down to rub your clit he's gentleman enough to stand up straighter to give you room.   
This horrible, sticky old man is already doing better than most, so ignoring how the head of his cock pushes deep enough to hit against your cervix is easy. If it hurts tomorrow, that'll be a sweet reminder, paired well with the bruises he's left on your hip.   
Still, this is just a quickie; Rick is not a charitable man and you know very well that letting him do what he wants is the key to get him to stretch you like this again. So you moan for him, don't hide your shiver of anticipation and lust when he throws his head back with an angry grunt and his features tighten.   
His fingers dig deeper and his chin glitters in the greenish light with the wetness of your cunt. Clinging to him and begging him not to pull out could never be fake when he looks like this, and when his cock is buried in you as far as you can take you know he's perfect.  
And Rick shivers and groans and you feel his cock practically jumping with his relief and you feel your cunt filling to the brim with his come. It couldn't matter less that you aren't even close - all you'll have to do once he's left is dip your fingers in and tasting his come off of them as you rub yourself and you'll be finished.

Rick shudders and opens his eyes. You can tell he's back in the present, and his face is impassive as he surveys the scene, wipes his brow and pulls his still hard dick out of you.   
He doesn't even bother to meaningfully clear his throat as he zips his pant back up and wipes his hands on his coat. You're not stupid enough to reach for him, or to try to catch his eye.   
Without a word he turns and he's ready to rejoin the party still going strong in the rest of the house.   
You're still shaking, cunt still throbbing, breath still just out of reach. Who are you trying to kid? He hasn't said a word but you're nearly sure he'll be back for more.   
You're already finished.


End file.
